Disgraced

by Natasha Knight

  The bartender wiped his hands on a towel and approached her with a smile.

  “Kat. It’s been a few weeks.”

  “I’ve been working, Shawn,” she said, making a face.

  “I keep telling you that you should quit that uptight place and come work for me.”

  She smiled and turned to introduce me. “This is my friend, Damon. Damon, this is Shawn.”

  The bartender nodded. “Usual for you, Kat?” he asked.

  “Please.”

  “What’ll you have, friend of Kat?” he asked me.

  “A beer.” I named one he had on tap.

  A few moments later, we had our drinks. Lina snagged a stool, leaned her back against the bar, and watched the empty stage as she sipped from a straw.

  “What are you drinking?” I asked when she caught me staring at her.

  “Just a Coke. Don’t worry, Shawn won’t serve me alcohol until I’m twenty-one.”

  “I wasn’t worried, just curious. This isn’t…running into you here, this whole thing, it’s just not what I would ever have expected from you.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. Just…I’m glad I ran into you, that’s all.”

  “When are you going to spring your questions on me?”

  “I’m not.” That seemed to surprise her.

  “Why not?”

  “You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”

  “What if I’m not ever ready?”

  I tilted my head to the side and gave a shrug. We’d cross that bridge later.

  “This is a change from last night,” she said.

  “I was unprepared for last night.”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  Silence. We didn’t break eye contact. “You look good, Lina. The tattoos, I like them. It’s you, if that makes sense.”

  “Thanks for saying that. It is me. It’s maybe the only thing that’s me right now.”

  She smiled, a flush of pink warming her cheeks as sadness darkened her eyes.

  “What do you think my sister will think when she sees?”

  “Are you worried about that?”

  She considered her half-full glass. “I try not to think about it, honestly. I know it’s stupid. I mean, I can’t hide out forever.”

  “Why do you feel like you have to hide out at all? You’re an adult, and she’s a reasonable person. Just tell her the truth.”

  “It’s complicated, Damon.”

  I watched her as she spoke, saw how her eyes reddened again, growing moist with tears.

  “I have one question. Just one.”

  “Okay,” she said, although with hesitance.

  “Are you in trouble, Lina?”

  She was saved before she had to respond when a group of three came toward her calling out her name, the girl with the pink hair falling into Lina as she hugged her. I stood back and watched, saw how the men smiled but hung back. Shawn handed the girl a drink and gave her a wink.

  “It’s so good to see you, Jana. I love the pink.” Lina touched the girl’s long hot-pink hair.

  “Better than the green?”

  “I loved the green too.” Jana glanced at me, a large smile spreading across her face. Lina touched my hand. “This is Damon.”

  No my brother-in-law or my friend. I was just Damon.

  “Damon, this is Jana, my absolute best friend. She’s the singer of the band I was telling you about. She and Shawn are engaged to be married. And these two are Jace and Benji.”

  “Nice to meet you all. I’ve heard great things.” I shook hands with them.

  “Really nice to meet you, Damon. It’s about time Kat brought someone with her.”

  Jana gave me a nudge, then returned her attention to Lina and took her hands.

  “You’re playing a couple of songs with us, right?”

  Lina’s smile widened, and her eyes sparkled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  “Come on,” Jana pulled Lina off her stool.

  Lina tuned to me. “Do you mind?”

  “No, please go ahead. I’d love to hear you play myself.”

  A moment later, I took the stool Lina had vacated and ordered another beer as the band walked up onto the stage. Lina took a seat behind the beat-up-looking piano and gave me a wave. Jana introduced the band and mentioned Lina, aka Kat, and they began to play.

  I would probably describe the music as punk with the piano accompaniment adding a touch of something darker, something almost gothic, different than the classical she’d played at Club Carmen. I watched her, studied her face, saw her severe concentration, her intensity. She played with a passion that carried into her music, displaying her pain for anyone who cared to notice. That was what I’d heard the first time I’d come into Club Carmen. Heartbreak. The music she made sounded like a heartbreak. And for reasons I couldn’t explain, I wanted to hear her make a different kind of music. I wanted to take that heartbreak away.

  Here, with this band, though, it was different. It was heavy, the darkness she carried around with her, but in a way, it fit. Like the tattoos. Like this place. Like her music.

  “She’s very talented,” Shawn, the bartender, said.

  I turned to find him studying me before returning his attention to wiping down the counter.

  “She is that.”

  “Special kid.”

  I felt like he was making some point. I faced him squarely. “I’ve known Li…Kat since she was sixteen. I know how special she is. I’m glad to see she has friends here looking out for her.” What did I want to say? That I wasn’t one of the wolves in sheep’s clothing that he need look out for? Because ever since last night, I hadn’t been able to get her out of my mind. And I’d be a liar if I said my thoughts were wholly pure.

  Hell, maybe he was right to question me.

  To warn me.

  The music changed then, and the lights on stage focused on Lina. The rest of the band took a background role as she began to play Coldplay’s “Viva la Vida”, only this version was a thousand times more intense as she pounded the keys, her face tight, her focus unbreakable. When she finished, there was one single moment of silence before the crowd broke into cheers. Lina gave a faint smile and turned to me. When she did, I saw how her eyes glistened, how they looked at me with an unfathomable emotion. Something full of longing.

  Jana came around the piano, breaking our locked gaze to hug Lina. I set my glass on the bar and caught the bartender watching me. Scrutinizing me, maybe. He hadn’t missed the exchange between Lina and me.

  The band took a break. Lina came toward me as dance music pulsed around the bar. She took the Coke the bartender set in front of her, complimenting her. She blushed, obviously uncomfortable with the attention. I watched her, took in her flushed face, the little bit of sweat that dampened her forehead. She set her glass down and took my arm.

  “Dance with me.”

  She began to pull me toward the crowd of dancers jumping and pulsing en masse. I shook my head. “You go ahead,” I said, not wanting to dance but wanting to watch her dance. Wanting nothing else in that moment.

  She tugged again, her gaze falling on Jana, who waved her over from the dance floor.

  “Go,” I urged.

  “Sure?”

  I could barely hear her over the music, so I nodded. She went. I watched her on the dance floor, her body as if it were made for dancing. Hips swaying, her every move sensual, erotic even. Charged. It was strange. Almost like watching a rare, wild animal suddenly uncaged.

  Her hair whipped around her, and although she danced with Jana, men circled her like wolves. As I watched, my hand tightened around my drink and my gaze grew hard, almost as if I was willing her to me.

  It took all I had not to drag her away from within the circle of men that formed around them, and the moment I realized she was aware of it, of her power, it took me back. She turned away from Jana to dance with one man, then another, but all the while she did, she watched me. Her gaze never left mine. When one
of the jerks wrapped his hands around her hips and drew her close, I set my drink down on the bar, beer splashing my fingers. I walked over to them, not caring that I stood like a brick wall on the dance floor, my gaze burning into hers.

  I gripped the guy’s arm.

  They stopped dancing, both of them turning to me.

  “Leave,” I said to him.

  “What? No, man, we’re dancing.”

  I never took my eyes off her. “I said leave.”

  “Fuck, dude, chill.”

  I dragged my gaze from her to him. I don’t know what he saw in my eyes, but he released her instantly and stepped back. I didn’t care about him, though. I didn’t care about any of them. I only cared about her. And right now, I wanted to hold her, but not only to have her close.

  No.

  She woke something inside me that left me feeling out of control. That had my heart beating fast, that made blood pump hard through my veins.

  I wanted it known that she was mine. That no man should touch her. Should even look at her. I felt…possessive.

  Obsessive.

  I took her arm, suddenly angry.

  Angry with her.

  Angry with her for what she made me feel.

  She gave me a sly smile, and I tugged her close, her chest against mine, and wrapped my other hand around her waist.

  “You like it,” I said.

  “What?”

  “You like them looking at you.” Her eyes searched mine. “Don’t you?”

  “What?”

  She blinked fast, confirming my thoughts.

  “You like your power over them.”

  She didn’t deny it but placed one hand on my shoulder, the other on my bicep. She shifted her gaze to that hand, and I felt her squeeze, felt her fingers trail upward over my shoulder toward my neck, where she touched the stubble on my jaw.

  “What do you want, Damon?”

  Despite the loud music, I heard her clearly.

  “Lina—”

  “What do you want right now? If nothing else mattered, what would you want right this second?”

  I held her tighter. She was so close, I could smell her, smell the fading scent of something feminine and pretty and—fuck me—erotic. She wanted to know what I wanted? She knew already. I could see it in her eyes, feel it as she pressed the hardened nipples of her breasts against my chest.

  I knew perfectly well what I wanted. I knew it as well as I knew what she wanted.

  But there was one difference between us.

  I knew what was allowed.

  And I knew better what was forbidden.

  She leaned toward me and touched her face to mine, rubbing soft skin against rough stubble, wrapping her hands around my neck.

  “What do you want, Damon?” she whispered, her voice sultry, her breath warm against my ear.

  I swallowed, looking down at her, down at her nipples tight and dark under the snug white shirt, her eyes wide, seductive, seducing. Her mouth. Fuck. Her mouth.

  Abruptly, I shook my head and took hold of her wrists, drawing them away, holding them tight, too tight. “What are you doing?”

  Her smile faded, something akin to fear momentarily passing across her eyes. She looked away, and when I loosened my grip, she stepped out of my embrace, then ran a hand through her hair, her eyes meeting mine only briefly before she answered.

  “Nothing.”

  “I’ll take you home,” I said, my tone stiff, the words sounding awkward.

  She didn’t look at me, didn’t resist, but turned to say a hurried good-bye to Jana. I noticed how she didn’t quite look at the girl. Saw how her eyes glistened. I waited for her, then kept one hand at her lower back as I walked her toward the foyer and got our coats. She didn’t say anything but let me help her slip hers on. I watched her as she buttoned it up and I put mine on, noticing how she refused to look at me.

  I knew she felt embarrassed. I’d embarrassed her.

  “Lina,” I said, grabbing her arm when she walked ahead of me once we were out on the street.

  “Don’t.”

  She tugged free, and I let her go, hailing the next taxi that came. Without speaking, she climbed inside. I followed and gave the driver her address. We didn’t talk for the entire ride. And when we got back to her place, she climbed out, her attention on digging her keys out of her purse.

  “Thanks for dinner,” she said as she started climbing up the stairs of the brownstone.

  “Lina, wait—”

  She stopped on the second step, turned, and faced me. “Why? What for?”

  “I want to talk.”

  “I’m tired, Damon.”

  Shit. I could have done this differently. “What happened on the dance floor—”

  “Nothing happened. It was good to see you, but really, I’m just tired.”

  “We need to talk, Lina.”

  “Let it go. Just drop it.”

  “You never answered my one question.”

  Her gaze searched mine, and I knew she remembered it. The one when I’d asked her if she was in trouble.

  “You’re not going to leave this alone, are you?”

  “No.”

  She shook her head and dug her phone out of her purse. “Give me your phone number. I’ll call you.”

  I gave her my number but knew she had no intention of calling me.

  “Call it now,” I said.

  “What? You’re right here.”

  “Call me, so I have your number.”

  With a note of annoyance, she hit the Call button, and my phone rang. I checked the display, and satisfied, tucked it back into my pocket.

  “I’m going to give you tonight, Lina. But tomorrow morning, I expect a call with a time and place to meet. I know where you live, and I know where you work. You can’t hide from this. From me.”

  “That doesn’t sound too stalker-ish.”

  If she was trying to go for light, she failed.

  “I’m not letting this go.” The taxi driver honked his horn. I gave him the signal that I’d be one more minute. “Don’t make me come get you, Lina. If you do, there will be consequences.”

  The look in her eyes told me she took my warning seriously.

  “Understand?”

  When she didn’t answer, I stepped closer and took her chin in my hand, tilting her face upward. “I asked you a question.”

  “You said you’d wait for me to tell you when I was ready.”

  “I must have forgotten to mention the time limit on that.”

  “You did forget.”

  “Understand?” I repeated my earlier question.

  “Yes.”

  “Good girl.” She swallowed. “I’ll walk you upstairs.”

  Without arguing, she marched up the steps ahead of me, unlocked her apartment, and stepped inside. She turned to face me. I don’t know why, but I wrapped my hand around the back of her head and pulled her toward me, twining my fingers in her hair, liking the feel of it, liking the look of her flinching as I tugged.

  Neither of us spoke as I searched her face, my gaze falling to her full, parted lips for too long. It took me a moment before I could release her, and when I did, she stumbled back. I turned and walked away. I heard the door close behind me, knowing full well she’d try her hardest to avoid me, knowing full well there was no way in hell I was going to allow that to happen.

  4

  Damon

  The following morning, I got up, showered, and put on my cassock. I wondered if I should. If my wearing it wasn’t a sacrilege. Because last night at the club, I’d wanted something. I’d wanted her. I’d wanted her in a way so base, so carnal, it should have shamed me.

  As I did every morning since arriving at St. Mark’s, I went into the small chapel to prepare it for Father Leonard’s ten o’clock mass. Apart from me, there would be only one attendee. Mrs. Sheldon. The eighty-year-old widow attended mass daily. I had a feeling it was her only outing.

  If Father Leonard noticed anything unusual ab
out me, he didn’t mention it. But I had to admit that throughout the mass, I was distracted. If he had asked me a question about the sermon, I wouldn’t have been able to answer him.

  Once mass was over, I helped Father Leonard clean up. When he retired to his apartment, which was on the opposite side of the church to mine, I went into my own.

  I dialed the number of the small school Lina should have been attending in Chicago. One of the teachers at seminary now taught there, and although I knew it was a violation of Lina’s privacy, I decided finding out the details of her departure were necessary for her own good.

  The fact that one of her complaints was that everyone was doing everything for her own good wasn’t lost on me, but this was too important.

  Father Aron, her counselor at the school, hesitated at first, but I explained the situation honestly, although not wholly. He remembered Lina well, liked her from what I gathered. And he sounded disappointed about how she’d left the school. She’d had great promise, which I knew, but she never quite fit in, never tried to make friends, and kept to herself for the few months she was in attendance. Months. Not a full year. Her grades had been fine, excellent in fact. She’d have made the Dean’s list if she’d kept on the track she was on. But out of the blue, she’d met with him to tell him she was leaving. That she needed time. Told him exactly what she’d told me last night.

  Except that she hadn’t told her sister or Raphael that she up and left.

  She’d lied to my face, and she’d lied well. Casually, almost.

  I gave Lina until noon before I tried calling her the first time, not expecting an answer. I didn’t get one. I tried her twice more before I dropped it, knowing she wouldn’t answer but wanting to give her the opportunity to before I showed up at the club tonight.

  Did she wonder about the consequences I mentioned? Did she think I was kidding?

  After dinner, I showered and changed into dark slacks and a navy button-down shirt, put on my coat and gloves, and headed outside. I waved a taxi over and climbed in, getting to the club about twenty minutes later.

  I arrived at prime time, and when I walked inside, I felt a sense of relief when I heard the piano music. It was her. I didn’t have to see her to know she played. But tonight’s music sounded darker, more intense.